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Star Force 10: Outcast

Page 9

by B. V. Larson


  I shrugged. “Maybe they salvaged them. Let’s look over there,” I said, pointing at what appeared to me to be a distinct convex curved line on the ground. That kind of shape reminded me of something I’d seen in one of the endless documentaries our generation had grown up watching.

  I guess every big war affects the kids afterward, not only because of what it did to the parents, but because it sets the tone and infects the media. It washes a patina of time across the war until it doesn’t seem bloody and grim anymore, but glorious instead. As I trudged across the rocky ground among those hulking mechanical corpses, I felt the echo of fear my dad and Kwon and all those other guys must have felt as they charged into bloody close combat for the first time down in the jungles of South America, dying in droves.

  I shivered.

  We’d reached the line, and Adrienne scuffed at it, a sort of shallow trench dug in a perfect curve, defining a circle maybe a quarter mile wide. “It’s from a dome, isn’t it?” she asked.

  “I think so. That means…” I lined myself up and pointed with my whole arm. “The center should be that way. Let’s go.” Making sure she stayed in front of me so I could keep an eye on her, we made our way the eighth of a mile it took to find the center. There we found not a combat machine but the broken factory that I expected. I remembered most of the domes had one of these things, a combination of defensive generator and Macro-maker, the heart of any ground infestation.

  “I still don’t see any enemy stuff around,” I said, doing a slow three-sixty, “but it sure looks like this factory was attacked.”

  “There aren’t any burns or blast marks, but these impacts…” Adrienne indicated weird upside-down V-shaped dents, with their points toward the sky, as if someone had taken an odd axe blade ten feet high and chopped at the machine until it broke. “What kind of weapon would do that?”

  “Maybe the aliens will enlighten us. It’s time to get back now.”

  She protested, but I insisted. We headed back toward the yacht.

  “Hey…” Adrienne stopped. “This wasn’t here before.” A rocky mound twenty feet high blocked our way between two wrecked Macros.

  “You’re just remembering wrong. We must have gone around.” I started angling to my right, where I could see an open space.

  “Cody, come back here. Look.” When I did, I saw where she was pointing at the ground. Our tracks seemed to simply appear out of the side of the low hill, as if we had phased through it in some magical way.

  “I’m beginning to get a bad feeling about this,” I said grabbing her shoulder and pulling her back. Something wasn’t right, and I didn’t know what it was.

  “Maybe it’s some kind of hologram.” I let her draw away from me, which was another big mistake. You’d think I would have been hyper-paranoid after losing Olivia, but in reality, I think I was trying to make up for it by making Adrienne happy instead of being a hard-ass about keeping her safe.

  As she reached out to poke at the hill in front of her, the dirt grabbed her.

  -10-

  The dirt actually grabbed her. That’s the only way I can describe it. I was reminded of a horror vid I’d seen once where the monster was a kind of energy force that used whatever dirt and rocks were around as a body. In front of us, soil shaped itself into an arm or tentacle with a four-fingered claw having two opposing digits on each side, like one of those clamps on the end of a manipulator arm that loggers use to pick up big trees and move them. It wrapped itself around Adrienne’s forearm and started to pull her into itself.

  Fortunately it wasn’t very fast. I’d seen a three-toed sloth on a nature show where it took several seconds to make a simple motion, like moving a paw from one spot to the other. That’s what it reminded me of.

  These thoughts ran through my head, and I froze for a moment, but then went into action. I slung my laser rifle over my shoulder and grabbed the reaching tube of dripping earth with both my hands. Bracing my foot against the mound, I pulled with my full strength.

  The stuff felt like nano-metal when it was flowing, granular and resistant, but I was able to compress it as if it were made of rubber. It got thinner and thinner as I pulled and squeezed, and in a moment, I managed to drag my hands all the way through it, like tearing away a clump of wet clay.

  The end with the claw fell off onto the ground and broke apart, turning into just another spray of dirt while the stump started to reform itself into another grasping appendage. I shoved Adrienne away from it and she stumbled, sprawling on the ground. I wasn’t limiting my strength anymore; this wasn’t the time to be gentle.

  It was then I realized my right boot had sunk six inches into the side of the mound, which had flowed around my foot. I was held fast. I tried to jump, twist and kick, but the thing held on and began sucking me downward into itself like quicksand.

  The problem wasn’t a lack of strength—it was a lack of leverage. The only thing I had to push against was more of the same dangerous earth. I felt Adrienne grab onto my shoulders and tug as I leaned toward her. I had one foot on the ground and one in the growing mound of soil, which now had me up to my right ankle. But she wasn’t strong or heavy enough to be effective. I was going to be swallowed if I didn’t do something drastic.

  Making a decision my father would have been proud of, a real Riggs decision, I reached down to my leg with both hands and popped loose the catches that held the hard parts of the boot together and started trying to pull my foot out of the suit itself. Accessing the tiny brainbox, I yelled, “Suit, release right boot assembly!”

  “Cannot comply,” my suit said in a tinny, small-brainbox voice. “Vacuum environment detected. Release may cause fatal decompression.”

  “Suit, emergency override. Execute previous command on my authorization.”

  “Emergency authorization implemented.”

  Smart cloth flowed out of the boot in immediate response, rejoining the rest of the suit. I pulled strongly as the pressure eased around my foot. I had to act before the crazy trapping soil squeezed harder. My foot popped free and I fell backward, and even though I was wearing a sock, my skin began to frost over.

  Immediately, the nanites in my body went to work, limiting the damage and thickening my skin. I tried to walk, but every step I took felt like I was pressing the sole of my foot to something far chillier than a block of ice—which it was. This far out from its sun, the surface of this planet was cold, at least minus fifty, if I had to guess.

  We hopped and stumbled away from the killer mound and circled the broken Macros. Now I realized why the robots all seemed half-buried in the dirt here. The strange earth had overcome the Macros, and it was trying to consume us as well.

  Rounding a tangle of broken-down robots, we realized that we’d been blocked in that direction as well. Spinning left and right, we could see mounds had sprung up all around the area, forming a ragged wall of vertical cliffs twenty feet high. Unfortunately, the gravity here was at least two-thirds of standard, enough to prevent a normal human from leaping over the walls, but I thought I could do it anyway.

  “Adrienne,” I said, “listen to me and do what I say.”

  “Okay,” she said, eyes wide as she examined the closing walls. She was breathing hard.

  “See the mound between us and Greyhound? I’m going to throw you up onto that mound—maybe over it. You might have a rough landing, but you need to try to hit the ground running and move fast enough to keep that stuff from grabbing you, okay?”

  “What do you mean, you’re going to throw me?”

  “I’m nanotized, Adrienne—and more. I’ll explain it all later, but I can do this.”

  To her credit, Adrienne didn’t argue. “Okay. I’m ready,” she said.

  “Tell your suit to go into impact-resistant mode, and then as soon as you are on your feet, switch it into muscular-assistance mode.”

  While our standard flight suits weren’t battlesuits, but they had some pretty cool functions—especially expensive suits like these.
/>   “All right,” she said after a moment. “I’ve set the program.”

  “Here we go.” The mounds were grinding toward us like bulldozers, linking up with their fellows as they flowed around the dead Macros, pulling inward to corral us in a circle. I grabbed Adrienne by the neck ring and the seat of her suit, tipped her over like a child and ran three steps forward before lofting her skyward. Up and over she went, and I jumped right after her.

  Two possibilities had occurred to me as I watched her fly and both were dangerous. One, she might land on top of the mound and it would immediately try to engulf her like quicksand. Two, she might go over the mound entirely and slam into the frozen ground on the other side—landing too hard. I was hoping for option two, because a few broken bones could be fixed.

  Unfortunately, option one reared its ugly head.

  When I landed beside her at the top of the mound, she was already sinking. The stuff was grabbing at her like living taffy. I landed, seized her again and ripped her free. I tossed her in a flat spin down the opposite slope and onto the undisturbed area beyond. Whatever this substance attacking us was, it seemed to be localized and moved with finite speed, so I hoped she would be safe for a little while.

  My right foot felt almost completely numb, except for a hot-needle stabbing sensation that told me my body’s nanites were trying to heal me at the same time my foot was freezing solid. I ignored all that and ran after her down the other side of the mound, feeling like I was running in deep mud. The ground clutched at me, but I pumped my legs madly and roared with effort, ripping free from the ground and slamming my feet down to generate traction. My speed and strength were my only assets, and I used them to the fullest, pushing myself forward.

  When I made it to steady ground, I found Adrienne semiconscious. I picked her up and carried her over my shoulder. “Suit, form a field-expedient right boot to protect my foot.”

  “Complying.” Smart metal flowed and I hobbled awkwardly away from the mounds that were now rumbling and grinding in random directions as if seeking their lost prey. I could feel their vibrations through the ground like earth tremors.

  “Marvin,” I radioed. “Marvin, answer me.”

  Nothing.

  It took me a moment of frustration to remember I’d forbidden him to transmit. I was annoyed that this was the moment he’d chosen to follow instructions to the letter. I decided to talk to the ship directly.

  “Greyhound, open the airlock, and as soon as we’re both inside, lift off. This soil is trying to swallow us.”

  “Command accepted. Shall I activate the laser?”

  “No,” I gasped as I ran with Adrienne bumping up and down on my shoulder. Unfortunately I could also see that the dirt was starting to ripple around the ship, and the struts that braced it from rolling on its rounded belly seemed to be sinking.

  “Greyhound, the effect is trying to grasp the ship. Use repellers to lift off now, at least a foot or two. Try to get free of the surface.”

  “Command accepted.”

  By this time, we’d reached the ship. I tossed Adrienne up and into the airlock and leaped after her. The belly of the yacht had come off the ground but the four landing struts remained mired in the soil, which was trying to climb up them and drag the ship down. With its big engines and high power-to-mass ratio, I hoped that Greyhound could pull free when the time came.

  I hit the emergency speed-cycle button on the airlock. Gasses hissed and were lost into space. I yelled into my radio, “Lift off, now! We’re in!”

  I felt the vessel yaw and shudder and could hear a rising whine as the brainbox fed the repellers more power.

  “Increasing repeller force will damage landing struts,” Greyhound complained.

  “Screw the struts! Blow them free or release them or whatever. Rip them loose with your manipulation arms if you have to!”

  Greyhound did as I’d ordered, and a moment later the shuddering ceased with one final lurch. Everything was still and quiet except for the thrum of the engines. Opening the inner door seemed to take forever, but finally I carried Adrienne into the ship. After telling her suit to remove itself from her, I placed her into the autodoc. I was extremely glad we had the machine because Adrienne was in bad shape.

  The screen on the machine said she had multiple broken bones as well as internal injuries and a concussion, despite my trying to be gentle with her in our mad escape. A nightmare of fear reached up to clutch my throat, and I told the autodoc, “Initiate extreme measures.”

  “Command accepted. Please back away from the canopy.”

  I hoped I was doing the right thing. Last time the machine had been set to only nanotize someone if they were dying. I wasn’t going to wait that long this time. It didn’t matter if she was pissed at me for giving her the treatment. She’d decided to come along so she had to deal with the consequences. I watched the readings for a few minutes to make sure everything was going okay. She didn’t thrash as much as Olivia had. Presumably the autodoc had sedated her enough to reduce the effect.

  I should have insisted on getting Adrienne nanotized, but I’d been blinded by my desire to please her. I resolved that I wouldn’t give in to that urge again. At least not in the face of danger that should have been obvious to me.

  Now that I had time for regrets, I blamed myself for what had happened. Anything that could take down Macros was obviously dangerous to us. I’d been fooled by the lack of energy readings, and I’d forgotten that alien worlds might hold life that was very, very alien.

  That this stuff was life of a sort, I had no doubt. It had acted intelligently, at least in an animalistic way, like a pack of dogs, or perhaps smarter than that. It had formed a claw, tried to pull us in, and then corralled us. Maybe that was how the stuff hunted, though I couldn’t for the life of me figure out what there was to prey on or eat on that dead planet.

  No, not a dead planet. This was a world with life—or machine life—that I simply didn’t understand. Maybe there were different sorts of rock creatures around, a whole ecology our science hadn’t even dreamed of down there. In my head, I labeled these possible creatures, “Lithos,” the Greek word for stone.

  “Cody Riggs, we are being hailed,” Marvin said.

  “Put it through here. Audio only.”

  Turnbull’s voice came through. “Riggs?”

  “Yes, Captain?”

  “Everything all right?”

  I cleared my throat, which was a dead giveaway, but I couldn’t help it. I’d never been the smooth rogue my old man was, but I figured I would have to learn. Fortunately, Turnbull seemed oblivious. “We got a bit banged up when the ground suddenly shifted, sir, but we’ll be all right. How are things with the aliens?”

  “That’s what I wanted to ask you. I see you’re headed back to us. Has your translator program made any progress?”

  “Just a moment.” I scrambled up to the bridge and had the hail patched through with video. I glanced over at Marvin, still humming contentedly at his station. Fortunately he was out of the direct line of the camera pickup. “The program’s still running. If you don’t mind, sir, we’ll talk about that when we arrive. I have to see to the damage. Riggs out.” That seemed as good an excuse as any, and I cut communications.

  “Marvin, do you have any theories about what that stuff was on the planet?”

  “I'm analyzing it now.”

  “Good.”

  We were halfway back to the ring before Marvin delivered his report. During that time, Adrienne’s condition had improved, but she was still in the autodoc. My foot was no longer blue and encrusted with ice. Instead it looked almost normal, but it still lanced fire up my leg every time I put my weight on it.

  “I have a theory,” Marvin announced. “I believe the mobilizing agent of the soil was a nonmetallic form of nanite. It uses silicates in a manner similar to our nano-metals. By manipulating molecules in the soil, it controls the rest of the molecules the way muscles control human movements.”

  I sighed w
ith relief. I’d been seriously considering the supernatural or some strange energy-based life form. I thought about his report, and my eyes narrowed in concern. “Marvin, what if this stuff gets loose aboard the ship?”

  “As with our constructive nanites, this soil needs a directing intelligence, or at least a collective of the substance large enough to form large numbers of neural chains. There aren't enough of the nanites in the samples we’ve taken aboard to do this.”

  “How much would it take?” I asked.

  “The amount is difficult to quantify. The nanites are buried in a larger substratum of base materials. Lacking easy electrical conductivity or other metallic properties, I found that—”

  “Just give me an estimate,” I broke in. “How much total mass did you bring aboard?”

  “Six tons.”

  “That much? Are you crazy?”

  “I don’t see why my sanity is so frequently questioned whenever I seek to perform basic scientific research—”

  “Okay, whatever. Will it self-replicate and spread?”

  “Only very slowly. It requires food and energy to reproduce just like any plant or Von Neumann self-replicating machine. To prevent growth, all we have to do is restrict its intake of vital materials.”

  “Do you have it contained or not?”

  “Locked in the hold, it can’t escape. It needs energy and mass to consume in order to grow stronger, and there is no ready source of either. I suspect it will grow gradually by leaching matter from the walls, but very slowly.”

  That got me thinking. “Where would it be most deadly?”

  “Anywhere on a planet or other unrestricted environment with a great deal of silicates and energy.”

  My blood chilled, but my mind went into overdrive. I knew this stuff was dangerous, but maybe it could also be useful. It was like a disease of the soil. My guess was that someone, perhaps these aliens coming toward us, had created it and used it to take down the Macros on the rocky world. The immense machines had been outmatched by tiny nonmetallic nanites they had no idea how to fight. Hitting the stuff with energy – lasers or explosives – might kill some, but it would also fuel the replication of others. And with a whole planet to occupy…the Macros would be swimming in a sea of enemies. Probably only the fact that the Macros were metal had saved them from digestion, but the Lithos had immobilized and sucked every bit of energy out of them until the big machines had just run out of juice.

 

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